


I reside in a cursed land

by nialluhc



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry, inspired by some real events and some i made up in my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 13:48:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nialluhc/pseuds/nialluhc
Summary: And I shall never leave it.





	I reside in a cursed land

I reside in a cursed land.  
When my father went to seed the plants we ought to feed ourselves from,  
He gripped the dark soil in his rugged hands.  
Water bled from them,  
And with itself flushed away what he had meant to use for his family.  
When he returned inside,  
My mother asked him why he still had the seeds on him.  
He said to her then:  
“It does not welcome us.”

I reside in a cursed land.  
I was a child at the time. I held much curiosity for the world,  
And even more for the people in it.  
But whenever I left my house—  
Unsupervised, alone, free—  
I could not find anyone outside.  
Houses greeted me, empty balconies  
Reaching out as if they could wave at me  
Not a soul to be seen.  
My mother then, hurrying and in disarray,  
Would run to me, clothes getting in her way,  
And would yell at me for going where she couldn’t see me,  
Where I was not welcomed.

I reside in a cursed land.  
My older sister,  
An honey-made creature, warm inside,  
Met a man one day.  
I was twenty back then,  
And grave with the disturbances of the youth.  
I understood her, yet I did not.  
I saw her eyes filled with hope and longing,  
That I was sure would not be disappointed.  
Why would they? I told myself.  
Then they were wed and I  
Wore my best dress for the occasion.  
My mother was crying, and my father  
Had been dead since years. My younger brother  
Clenched his fists through the whole ceremony.  
And when my sister was left to die in the cold,  
Disliked, with her mute child on her breast,  
Confused, lost in a city she did not know,  
Those very fists broke down a door.

I reside in a cursed land.  
I have walked this earth for eighty-three years.  
Each morning, I have made my way  
Through honest work and wicked words,  
Thrown at me and at what I have left behind.  
My mornings start with a ray of sun rested on my eyelids  
By a joker of an imp.  
My evenings end in an embrace of wool and regrets.


End file.
